


Still Missing (Gotta Tell You Something)

by profound-boning (farawaystardust)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Coda, Episode: s12e09 First Blood, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 10:54:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10016465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farawaystardust/pseuds/profound-boning
Summary: “I hope they don’t come for you, Cas. God knows what would happen if they somehow found out about the Bunker. If they…”Dean cuts himself off and Castiel strains to pick up more. Dean’s longing is still strong, and a tug from Sam’s soul echoes in Castiel’s grace. After so many years, Sam is a brother in all but blood to Castiel. And Dean, well. Dean says 'you’re our brother' and also 'I need you' and Castiel can’t help but think maybe Dean doesn’t always say what’s really in his heart.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Dean Creations Challenge. February's theme: quotes about Dean. My prompt: Cas's speech at the end of the 12x09.

The first time it happens, Castiel is sure he’s imagining it.

Feeling less of a structured prayer and more a wave of sensation, Castiel looks up from where he is sitting in the driver’s seat and frowns.

Wistfulness? Aching? Whatever the emotion, it is not his own.

Castiel tries to reach back for it, to identify its source, but it’s already gone.

He starts the car and returns to his search. It has only been a day since he’s seen Dean and Sam. They couldn’t have gone too far.

 

The second time is more base. More familiar to Castiel.

Sam Winchester is hungry.

To be more precise, he is craving his own home-cooked food. Sam is sitting locked up somewhere and craving his fresh fruit, his potatoes, Dean’s pancakes, Cas’s coffee.

Castiel wishes desperately he could somehow pull information from this feeling. Where is Sam? And what about…

 

They’ve been missing for five days when Castiel finally feels something from Dean.

Dean is yearning for contact. Any human interaction aside from the 'Chow time!' heard twice a day from the other side of the door.

He knows that Dean must be missing his brother. His mother, too, no doubt. Dean is a very sociable creature, he must be climbing the walls by now.

The emotions pull Castiel deeper into sadness as he searches harder still for any clues about where the Winchesters might have been taken.

 

Angels do not require sleep, which means Castiel’s nightmares come on the nights he cannot fathom doing anything other than crashing into a soft bed.

Whether or not it’s Dean’s bed is entirely Castiel’s business and no one else’s.

When Castiel blinks awake to darkness, he recognizes two things: Dean and Sam have been missing for ten days. And he was awoken by the pull of a prayer. By the sensation of Dean praying to him, calling to him. The force of it is so strong it tastes like ash on Castiel’s tongue.

_Cas_

Knowing that Dean chose to turn to Castiel in his thoughts encourages a wave of arrogant pride in Castiel’s chest.

_Dunno if your ears are on_

As if Castiel would ignore Dean’s pleas.

_I’m keepin’ track, so I know it’s been just over a week since Sammy and I got nabbed. Not sure what the fuck the President’s cronies are so desperate to find out from us but it sure looks like they’re good to their word about ignoring us until we talk. Talk about what? The Devil? The apocalypses, plural? When you were God for a while? Actual God and, oh yeah, his sister? What the hell these people are after is beyond me._

Castiel can’t help but smile a little. Dean’s making a good point.

_Of course, they’ll want to know if we have accomplices or whatever. So first up is our dead mom. I’m sure they’ll enjoy that. And then there’s you, Cas. No, that’s not Jimmy Novak, that’s Castiel. Angelic wrath and awesome power and love for all of humanity and God’s creations. Wings and halo and harp and all. Heh. If you were here you’d glare at me and say, 'I don’t have a harp, Dean' or something. Can’t tell me you don’t have a halo, though. I wouldn’t believe ya._

Castiel absent-mindedly puts a hand through his hair at the top of his head, where his halo would materialize if he allowed it into the corporeal field.

_I hope they don’t come for you, Cas. God knows what would happen if they somehow found out about the Bunker. If they…_

Dean cuts himself off and Castiel strains to pick up more. Dean’s longing is still strong, and a tug from Sam’s soul echoes in Castiel’s grace. After so many years, Sam is a brother in all but blood to Castiel. And Dean, well. Dean says 'you’re our brother' and also 'I need you' and Castiel can’t help but think maybe Dean doesn’t always say what’s really in his heart.

 

Working this case is nearly impossible, even though it should have been simple. Castiel was a leader, a strategist, a warrior of God. He’d slain countless enemies in the pursuit of righteousness. And now he has been cowed by a single, tenacious vampire.

The guilt from Mary’s anger and the brothers' status as 'still missing' weighs on his heart. The grief and the pain of feeling Sam’s sadness and hearing Dean’s prayers distracts and disheartens him.

The drive back to the bunker from Missouri is the worst retreat in Castiel’s extensive memory.

 

_You’re my family, Cas. I dunno if I’ve ever made that perfectly clear to you. What that means. But it’s still true._

 

_The things I would do for some actually decent food right about now. I’m about to pray to Chuck and Amara to bring me some heavenly pizzas or something._

 

_Would be so nice to hop in the Impala right now. See the sun shining and whatever._

 

_I hope you’re doing all right. You haven’t burned down my kitchen or run out of coffee yet, have you?_

 

_Going crazy in here without Sammy. Without you._

 

_If I ever make it back, I gotta tell you something._

 

Weeks and weeks of listening to Dean still could not prepare Castiel for the moment he would actually hear Dean’s voice again.

Ever hopeful he would eventually be able to find the brothers, Castiel had not given up hope precisely, but he feels both immense relief and an ultimately satisfying joy in knowing Dean somehow managed to get his hands on a phone. Sam uses a nearby map to give an idea of where they are, and off he and Mary go.

Including the British Men of Letters is… not Castiel’s preferred method of action. But they don’t know what is waiting for them in Colorado and Mary had refused to reach out to Crowley or Rowena. Still licking his wounds from his failed solo hunting experience, Castiel feels that a backup plan would be wisest.

Discovering that he truly hadn’t known what awaited them is frustrating beyond belief.

First, not being able to truly assist in Sam and Dean’s escape of both the prison complex and the pursuant assailants was like an affirmation that he’s not actually capable of protecting them, of helping them survive.

Second, hearing that Billie agreed to help under the condition that one of the members of his family was going to die was unacceptable. When Dean had looked at him in the car, he’d thought—

Never mind what he’d thought. What he’d dreamt.

He has to do something.

 

Obviously Castiel would do anything in his (now limited) power to save Sam. Of course he'd wanted to keep Mary safe from harm. But it would be a lie to say that Castiel would prioritize anything above Dean Winchester. A singularly confounding and distressing thought, but a truth nonetheless. He has fallen for Dean in every way an angel can possibly fall for a human. A man.

A stupid man. A beautiful man.

Castiel sits in the War Room with his head in his hands, a perfect mirror to just a few days ago.

He hears Dean approach him from behind, but doesn’t realize the intention to interact until he feels a blanket across his shoulders.

It’s a strange sort of déjà vu when Dean’s hand rests gently on his shoulder.

“Hey, buddy,” Dean says as he moves to sit in the next chair. It squeaks softly against the floor and groans quietly when Dean lowers himself into it.

“Hello, Dean.”

Silence lingers between them for a few long moments. Castiel is feeling disquieted by the knowledge that he shared so much with them all, but especially with Dean. He’s never laid his feelings quite so bare before. It’s vulnerable and scary in a way that fighting hand-to-hand with enemies and demons and monsters is not.

Dean speaks first.

“That was one hell of a speech back there, Cas.”

“I suppose so. But I—I felt I needed to express myself. To help you understand why I did what I did.”

“No, I get that,” Dean assures him, making eye contact. “It’s just—. What you said. It’s, um.”

Has Dean finally, after all this time, truly put all of the pieces together? Is this to be the moment Castiel finds himself well and truly rejected?

“I won’t let any of you die.” The addition of ‘any of you’ is crucial, lest Dean find his way to the reality of Castiel’s feelings.

“You looked at me though.” There it is. “You—. Am I imagining that? Or was there a moment in there when you looked right at me? Right through me, just like you’ve always done.” Dean addresses his clasped hands instead of Castiel.

He takes a deep breath. “I suppose I did look at you, Dean.”

“C’mon, Cas.” Dean looks up again, his brow furrowed. “Y’know what I mean. Maybe?” He runs a hand through his hair, shifting backward in his seat. “But maybe you don’t. Maybe I’m being selfish and stupid and—and yeah.”

Dean shifts again like he’s going to stand up but Castiel feels something like hope so he speaks again.

“Being selfish? Why?”

Dean clicks his tongue in frustration. “For thinkin’ maybe you were thinking about me, Cas, it’s—. Gah. I dunno.” His annoyance is palpable and Castiel feels that bubble of hope rise inside him.

“You wish for me to think of you.”

“‘Course I do, Cas, what kinda—?”

“As you thought of me while you were incarcerated.”

Dean looks at him, wide-eyed. “You—you, uh, felt that?”

“Yes. I felt things from Sam, too, longing for the general idea of home. This bunker. Good food and his family. But eventually, I could hear your prayers.”

Dean cuffs the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I thought I was going to lose my damn mind in there. Was so hard not to even see another human being. To know Sam was just over there but not—. And you and Mom. Praying helped, though.”

“I am glad for it,” Castiel tells him honestly. He does not say that it was a form of torture to listen to Dean’s words, his ramblings, and know there was nothing he could do.

“You, um.” Dean starts to say, but when he meets Castiel’s eyes he falters. He falls silent.

“Is there something the matter?”

Dean looks incredulous for a moment. “I mean, yeah, Cas, you kinda brought down some heavy consequences on us. Or at least they’re going to be coming down on us. On you.”

“Is that really of import?” Castiel slumps back against his chair, exasperated that _this_ is the cause of Dean’s… stress? Anger?

“Yes!” Dean responds forcefully, glaring back at Castiel. “You—. They could hurt you, Cas. Because I made a deal and you—”

“I broke it. Yes. We’ve been over this.” Castiel fights the urge to leave the room in frustration. “I told you earlier I will not allow the brothers Winchester to continue sacrificing themselves for—”

“Then why do _you_ get to do it, huh?” Castiel is startled to see tears form in the rims of Dean’s green eyes. “Why do you get to put yourself in harm’s way again? You think—. What do you think that’ll do to—to us? We’re a _family_ Cas but you—you’re—” Dean seems to cut himself off, looking down at his hands in his lap.

“I could not stand by and let any of you die. I did what I had to do.”

“And now I gotta wake up every morning wondering if today’s the day they’re coming for you,” Dean says so softly it’s like a dream.

“We can fight, Dean. We’ve—we’ve been making it up as we go for several years now.”

A small quirk pulls at the edge of Dean’s mouth. Castiel hesitates only briefly before reaching across the space between them to place a hand on top of Dean’s. Their eyes meet, and it is there Dean finds the courage to speak again.

“You mean too much to me. You mean too much to everything.” He uses the same words Castiel did. “And—and you mean everything to me.”

Those last words linger between them. Castiel squeezes their fingers where they rest on Dean’s thigh.

“Thank you, Dean.”

Dean huffs at him. “I mean, you’re welcome. I guess.”

Now it’s Castiel’s turn to smile. “Do you not already know that you are everything to me? After the first apocalypse? After I gave up Heaven’s armies for you? Lucifer in Sam’s head? Naomi in my own?”

“All right, all right.” Dean intertwines their fingers, blushing. “You don’t have to, ah, remind me. How much you’ve—what you’ve done. For me.”

“There’s no need to feel guilty.” By the way that Dean avoids looking at him, Castiel knows he’s found Dean’s discomfort. “Dean. I would not be sitting here if it was not worthwhile.” He hesitates. “But I couldn’t help you. Back there.” Dean looks at him with confusion in his features. “I couldn’t find you when you were incarcerated, and after you called, I couldn’t get there in time to help you escape or fight off the other men. And when you were gone I couldn’t protect one town from one vampire.”

“You did help though, Cas. You swooped in and saved our asses yet again. As for the vamp, I doubt I’d’ve done much better if the whole thing had been reversed.” Dean squeezes Castiel’s hand now, smiling gently. “If they’d taken you and Sam, I don’t even know what I would’ve done. And all those times it was you gone, Cas.” Being God. Purgatory. Every time Naomi stole him away. Metatron. Lucifer. “I was a wreck, Cas, ask anyone.”

“You need me.”

“I love you, man.” Dean blushes bright pink but doesn’t look away, apparently determined to let Castiel know the truth. “I need you and I love you and—and yeah. We’ll work it out, whatever’s coming. Together.”

“Of course, Dean. And I love you the same. For a long time now.”

Dean smiles so widely Castiel is mesmerized by the sight. He stands, still holding Dean’s hands and moves closer. Dean lets his knees fall apart so Castiel can occupy the space between them; Dean leans up and tugs on Castiel’s hand so that he will lean down into Dean’s personal space.

“Are you going to kiss me, Dean Winchester?” Castiel teases, his eyes resting on Dean’s lips.

“Only if you promise to kiss me back.”

As if Castiel would ignore such a request.

**Author's Note:**

> bonus scenes a la ashley because I can't stop:
> 
> Sam: you know cas was talking about you right  
>  Dean: no??? he clearly said “any of you” and “to everything”  
>  Dean: and he didn’t swoop in for a kiss afterwards  
>  Dean: def platonic  
>  Sam: jfc 
> 
> Sam: so dean says you could hear us when we were locked up  
>  Cas: in a manner of speaking I suppose  
>  Cas: I feel longing, if you recall  
>  Sam: so on top of dean’s pining you were feeling mine?  
>  Cas: yes although your longings were mostly food-related  
>  Sam: *munching on kale chips* hell yeah  
> 
> 
> [on tumblr](http://profound-boning.tumblr.com/post/157805530577/)


End file.
